Perfection
by readingfan07
Summary: Tobias Eaton is the meaning of perfection. Good grades, filthy rich and good looking too. He basically runs Chicago High. Beatrice Prior on the other hand, is the perfect gang member. And desired by many. Both are perfect in their own "calling". But when you mix the two perfect beings, perhaps the result isn't so perfect. *Beware of curse words. You have been warned.*
1. Chapter 1

TRIS:

Fear.

It's the one thing that I see when I look around. All the students surrounding me have nothing but fear written in their eyes and expressed across their face. That's normal though. And I don't blame them.

They have _every_ reason to be scared and they have every reason to be cautious. I would be if I were in their shoes.

They know what I am. No sugarcoating it, no hiding it. It's straightforward. It's something you immediately see and recognise on sight. And it's not news either. Yet it has same recurring effect, everyday.

When I walk into school and when I pass through the corridors, it's always the same. Repetitive.

They all steer clear of me. They glue themselves to their lockers while their eyes follow my every move. When I meet their gaze, they quickly turn away as if I were going to burn their souls, just for doing so.

And the thing is, they don't even think to hide their fear. They freely express it.

Something I could never do.

Something I was raised _not_ to do.

If I were to be honest, instigating fear or being associated with the very feeling, is satisfying. It's appealing. It means that I have some sort of control in this school, whether I asked for it or not (which I didn't). It means that they know their place, for I'd hate to see what happens when someone steps out of it. And it means that I am left completely alone.

Others may see this as a horrible thing. I simply thrive in it.

However, there is a _certain_ group of high schoolers who don't really get the gist of how things work when it comes to me. They either don't care or they don't notice at all. Either way, it doesn't bother me. In fact, it's quite refreshing to see some students still acting normally around my being.

Just as long as they continue to stay in their lane, then everything is perfectly fine. It _is_ funny though. From last year, when I first started at Chicago High, up till now, they have yet to notice my existence. But it doesn't matter that they haven't. _I_ couldn't care less about theirs, although the amount of times students speak of their presence is astounding.

Even now, as I bump into their leader, our shoulders grazing each other roughly as we squeeze through the hallways, I keep on walking, disregarding the stares I feel piercing my head.

Regardless of the curse words sitting on the edge of my tongue impatiently, I _keep_ on walking.

I admit, doing so is harder than thinking it. Especially when my hands ball up into fists, unintentionally.

-XX-

Ever wondered why you were born as the person you are? Ever wondered how things would be if you were born as someone else? Someone famous? Someone wealthy?

Would life have been easier?

Don't get me wrong though. I like what I have, which isn't materialistic things for I have none. And I'm satisfied with who I am.

What I _don't_ like are the circumstances I've been raised under. Sure, there are advantages to them, but there are disadvantages too. And they outweigh the advantages.

By a lot.

With this in mind, it's the very reason why I get pissed off when I overhear conversations of other students. Because they continuously complain. And it's all they ever really do.

"I didn't get enough sleep!", some would say. And, "my mother grounded me yesterday" others would rant. Those complaints aren't so terrible, I guess. But when they start speaking about how hard their life is because they missed out on a sale that their favourite store had over the weekend, then that's when my patience becomes thin.

 _Dangerously_ thin.

And I hear such complaints, more than often. More than I should be hearing. Compared to what... _others_ have to face daily, theirs is nothing.

Theirs, _pale_.

People like Four Eaton causes my blood to boil and my jaw to clench. However, I _do_ envy one thing about him. And that's his carefree nature. Everyday, he walks into school with a smirk people would call charming and an aura that screams that nothing can dent his happiness. That everything is perfect.

But it isn't.

Everything in _his_ life is perfect. Anything but, is an obstacle. When I think about it, it depends on who you are, really.

Like why me? Why _this_ life to live? Why _that_ incident to occur? And why _then?_

I tend to believe that everything happens for a reason. But I do doubt it sometimes. And questions as such are the perfect example.

Finally the bell sounds through school, signalling the beginning of homeroom and dismissing all thoughts entirely. As everyone begins to file into the room, I direct my gaze towards the outside environment and keep it focused there. Sitting next to the window gives me that privilege. And it's definitely better than having to look at my classmates as they all walk in.

Unfortunately, my ears do not go unscathed because they are _always_ loud. You'd think that by now I would be used to it, but it just seems to irritate me even more. I don't know how that's possible. But it is. They seriously work wonders.

Sitting in front of me is the usual group. Four Eaton and his crew: Zeke Pedrad, Uriah Pedrad and Will Andrews. **(A/N: I have NO idea what his last name is lol)**

They're jocks. Or idiots. Same thing.

Call them whatever.

And they are the loudest of all. The Pedrad's, especially. If truth be told, they don't actually speak. They yell. And the fact that they're sitting right next to each other doesn't seem to affect the noise level at all. I'm not sure if it's their _goal_ to let everyone know that Uriah ate the last remaining pop tart this morning or if they're just being stupid. Purposeful or accidental, I don't know.

Thankfully, Four soon comes to the rescue (as always) and asks them to quieten down (using his manners, of course) which they immediately obey.

Sighing in relief, I lean back into my chair and put in my earphones just as the teacher walks in. While the class does whatever it is that they normally do, I return back to staring outside, my thoughts completely empty. The music is the only thing I'm hearing at the moment. But that only lasts for about a minute.

A fist, knocking on the desk I occupy, swiftly catches my attention.

Glancing up, I am instantly met with Uriah's warm, brown eyes. Although the goof is noisy, he is the only student (other than Edward), who has attempted to talk to me. Even if all I do is reply with silence, the gesture and his effort is... appreciated, I guess.

Taking one earphone out, I raise a brow at him in question. A huge and genuine smile stretches across his face, instantly.

"Hey" he greets, first. Simply nodding in response, I quickly take notice of his friends who are now watching the interaction. Curiosity radiates off of them rapidly. "I like your tattoo" he then says. As my eyebrow furrows slightly, my hand flies up to my jumper automatically. When I feel the open skin, I slowly begin to cover it. I didn't realise that it was showing.

 _Stupid, Tris._

However, with Uriah turning a blind eye to my growing irritation (directed at myself), he continues to talk nonetheless. "I see you've added an extra raven. There are three now. For some reason, it looks better that way."

As usual, I give him nothing but silence (though it's not the only reason I remain quiet). A hard stare is my only reply.

Finally reading the atmosphere, he then awkwardly grins before coming to an end. "Well... it was nice talking to 'ya, Tris!" And with that being said, he faces the front at last, his friends reciprocating.

I wait a minute, just studying the group in front of me for a while, before shaking my head slightly. I didn't realise Uriah was the observant type.

And it seems like he's not the only one in the group either.

Four Eaton also.

He might've though that I didn't notice. But I did.

All too well.

In fact, I caught on to it at the very start. The way his gaze had assessed the situation did not go undetected. Albeit, I do wonder what it is that he found out or learnt from his assessment.

It's something that isn't usually his character which is why, somehow, I find it annoyingly odd.

Instantly, a troubling feeling overcomes me at the thought and I gulp, both in curiosity and in anticipation.

-XX-

As school comes to an end, I stand by my locker, pretending to pack away my school equipment, which is basically just one book. The things is, I try to blend in with the school, as much as I possibly can. But I don't think that that's working. At all.

Just as I'm about to close my locker door, a presence is felt lingering beside me. Gazing upwards, I am immediately surprised when the first thing I catch sight of are deep, dark blue eyes. A swimming colour. Perhaps, more so drowning.

And though I am in shock, which is meagre, my face remains completely emotionless. I can even tell by the way he just stands there, expecting me to say something.

But I don't. And I won't.

Not unless I feel the need to.

With this as my response, the atmosphere around us slowly becomes awkward, both our beings continuing in eerie quietness. Neither of us talking.

The air around us arises and tightens, the feeling of discomfort starting to prick at my skin. But I allow myself to act like it doesn't faze me. This eventually becomes successful because he finally speaks up.

"Tris Prior" he states. Arching an eyebrow, I wait for him to continue. Once more, he lingers in the stillness, hoping that I would respond verbally. But when he takes notice of my stubbornness, he continues. "I'm your tutor."

Confusion instantly washes over me. _Tutor?_ I must've been displaying a slight look of puzzlement because he asks, "Didn't Ms. Reyes tell you about it?"

It's only then that my memory kicks in.

 _Ah. Right. Ms Reyes. My English teacher._

It's the only subject that I am currently failing. Not that any of my other subjects are any better, but somehow I manage to _just_ pass them. Borderline mark, is more like it.

Surprisingly, I didn't expect Four to ever tutor someone. Sure, he's the _perfect_ kid who'll probably accept any assignment a teacher give him, but still. Tutoring? That's something that's never crossed my mind.

Sighing quietly, I meet his gaze before leisurely replying, "She did."

Nodding his head, he looks around for a second and then inquires, "So do you want to start today?" I knew he was going to ask this.

Shaking my head once, he lets out a quiet, "Oh." More silence settles in for a moment. Except this time around, he is quicker to carry the conversation.

"How about tomorrow then?" he questions. "It's the weekend."

Repeating the same action, I shake my head.

Although he is hiding it well, I can sense the vague and growing frustration vibing off of him. He attempts to think of a solution, his head tilted in thoughtfulness, but someone else beats him to it.

"She's busy the entire weekend."

As I look up to glance behind him, my stare hardens when seeing who it is.

Edward.

He is a year older than me, though we are in the same grade, and he used to be...

I cut the thought short.

However, I don't understand why he was answering for me, or still looking out for me. Even when he's not supposed to be.

And I don't _want_ him to.

I know he sees my disapproving expression at his uninvited involvement, but he pays me no attention and says to Four, "Please excuse her."

Upon hearing this, my nose flares up in anger, instantly initiating my feelings into an action. Fortunately, self-control is something I am _kind of_ capable of and so, I settle with just slamming my locker door.

Hard.

This causes them both to jump a little. Glaring at Edward with dagger-like precision, I then saunter away from the pair, forgetting the entire reason Four even came to speak with me.

I inwardly scoff.

 _Well... fuck them both, I guess._

 **A/N:**

 **I swear I am the WORST when it comes to unfinished stories. I was supposed to update 'The Rival' a month ago and I've already got an idea for 'A Difference in Freedom' but I've just been busy, I guess. I've had assessments every day, for two weeks. Like, how the hell does that work? *loads a gun...***

 **And I know, I know... "How are you so busy that you can't update your other two stories, yet have the time to post a new one?"**

 **Well... I don't have a proper answer for that except, the story idea was fresh and new. It doesn't bore me as easily as the other stories which I've had ideas for, a LONG time ago.**

 **Do I even make sense? lol Anyways, thanks for reading. I promise I'll try to update the other two if I have readers who are still waiting for an update.**

 **Thank ya, again!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ugh, I know! It's been forever since I've last updated BUT that's because my laptop is stuffed up and having to write this chapter using the 'On-Screen Keyboard' was a pain in the ass! It'll also explain why this chapter is lame lol Do beware of the cursing though! And thanks for still reading!**

As I head towards the car park, my motorbike in sight, I am suddenly aware of a presence following me. Years of training and sharpening my senses have that advantage I guess. I inwardly sigh. _Not again._ Counting quietly in my head, I turn around just as a hand reaches out to grasp me.

I watch as he misses my arm _completely_. Instantly I glare at the person in front of me. He softly sighs.

"Tris."

"Fuck off, Edward" I quickly say before turning back to head for my bike.

"Tris" I hear him try again but when I refuse to look back, he continues in hopelessness. "Tris, _just_... hear me out, will you? Please be careful. And _don't_ do anything rash over the weekend, alright?" The sincerity is clearly there but me _caring_ , isn't. Even worse, his words don't soothe me like they're supposed to. Instead, they cause me to halt to a stop, anger boiling in my veins slowly.

"Stop it" I quickly snap at him, while also trying to bite my tongue. "I don't need your input, alright? I don't need your concern and I most _definitely_ do not need you to speak for me. Leave me the fuck alone." I make an attempt to put on my helmet but when he suddenly responds, his voice now forceful, a lump rises in my throat at the sound.

" ** _Beatrice_**."

The name, just one word and two syllables, unexpectedly freezes my entire body into an immovable state. My hands immediately clench in order to stop them from shaking. I gulp at the unfamiliarity.

It's been a long time since I've last heard that name, and it's been a long time since I've last heard that authoritarian tone. Yet the fact that it still impacts me causes me to grimace.

I _refuse_ to be this weak.

Meeting his unwavering gaze, I finally find the voice to reply.

"You must've forgotten who you're talking to."

An eerie silence settles in and deepens before I sternly add, "I'm not your initiate anymore."

Having had enough of his presence, which unknowingly drowns my existence, I fulfil my previous task of putting on my helmet before hopping onto my bike and speeding out of the school gates... of course that is, without missing the outline of a familiar figure, hiding behind the entrance to the main building. I grit my teeth in annoyance as the realisation dawns down on me.

 _Fucking Eaton._

-XX-

FOUR:

Monday returns quicker than I anticipated. As I walk into school, I stop in my tracks when I immediately notice a difference in the atmosphere. Glancing around me, my mind attentive, my eyebrows furrow when I realise just how deadly silent everyone seemed to be.

And they were just staring. Not at me, but at _her_.

Tris Prior.

Even though that may be an everyday normality, the eeriness was a _new_ feeling. And the atmosphere that is growing _immensely_ unnerving doesn't make the situation any better. Resuming my walk down the hallway, every student I passed by seemed to be on the tip of their toes. They were on edge, fearing her more than they usually do. Her fists were tightly clenched and though she showed no emotion, the fury radiating off of her rapidly, was enough of a warning.

Students _actually_ feared for their lives, though I don't think she means any harm.

The aura around her wasn't usually like this though. It was never... _akin_ to that of murderous intent. It makes me wonder what had happened for her to create such a visceral reaction amongst the students. It's almost intimidating, yet intriguing all at once.

Forgetting about her as I suddenly spot my friends heading over, I replace my perplexed look with a grin, before meeting them halfway. Thoughts of the girl were now pushed to the back of my mind, though the chances of searching through them again were incredibly high.

-XX-

School ends in a haste. Nothing eventful occurred, as usual.

And now, in this moment, I am currently sitting in the library, waiting for the blonde haired student to show up, though her appearance was still unsure of.

Earlier when I had thought of approaching her about our tutoring session, the boys had stopped me and forced me into simply writing a note and slipping it into her locker. When I asked for their reasoning, they snorted at me. Apparently it was for my own protection, or so they had stated.

Snapping out of my thoughts, my gaze lands on the hands of time which continues to tick. I let out a small sigh at the sight. She was supposed to meet me half an hour ago.

And to add to that, I have no indication _whatsoever_ if she's even _seen_ the note, let alone coming.

Just as I'm about to give up and go home, the chair opposite me is pulled back abruptly. Looking up, I sigh in relief when my eyes clash with blue/grey pupils.

"Tris" I instantly greet, remembering our last awkward conversation. Not wanting a repeat of that, I continue to speak. "I'm glad that you could make it."

She doesn't say anything as expected. Just glares at me before staring down at the table. I immediately clear my throat in order to flatten the rising tension. "So I guess I'll just start by teaching you the basics of how to write a text response, if that's all right with you..?" Meeting my eyes, I notice her brows were scrunched together in annoyance. And then she speaks, her tone vicious and her head slightly tilted.

"Do I _have_ a choice?"

Taking her response as an affirmative reply, I awkwardly began the tutoring session, albeit I couldn't exactly tell if she understood anything I was saying. Throughout the duration of our session, she remained stoic and aloof, not once displaying a drop of emotion.

I attempted to ask if she was alright, but she cut me off with a nonchalant reply.

"I came here for English. Do _not_ ask me about my personal feelings." She didn't meet my glance as she said that. Made the atmosphere all the more intense.

By the end of the tutoring session, she left without saying another word.

I automatically released a breath I hadn't realised I was holding in.

Tris Prior, I thought as I packed away my books, seemed to be the only person whose presence causes me to feel discomfort. I'm not exactly sure if that's healthy, especially considering I have to see her more often now for tutoring. She's like a brick wall. Hard to break through.

She won't speak unless spoken to. And even when someone does, the chances of her responding is 1 out of 100. More like one out of a _million_.

But like everyone else, she too must have a story, right?

Just one that's never been come across.

It's also one I have _no_ intention of opening but _can't_ help but try to.

Of course, my failure rates are _drastically_ higher than my success ones. In fact I'm well aware of it. Come to think of it, this whole idea is quite foolish and every bit insane. _But_... an attempt won't hurt.

At least I hope it won't.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Again, I apologise if this chapter is lame. I'm still typing using the 'On-Screen Keyboard' and it's _still_ a pain in the ass. Have fun reading!**

TRIS:

When I walk into school the next day, my eyes immediately narrow when I spot Four standing by my locker. Questions instantly flash through my mind. Seeing him outside of the tutoring session was becoming a nuisance. As I glance back to him, I realise that it appears to be as if he was waiting for someone. I inwardly groan at the thought. _Ah shit_. Almost as if he could feel my presence, he slowly lifts his head to meet my gaze before offering a small smile. I remain indifferent as he greets me.

"Tris" he begins. "It's good to see you." _Is it now?_ I couldn't help the sarcastic thought. Glaring at him, I hastily respond.

"What do you want, Eaton?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to-"

"No."

"You haven't even heard my offer yet" he quickly protests. I inwardly snort. _As if I need to hear it._

"I don't need to" I tell him. "Now scram."

The expected reaction was obedience. However, the demand was hastily subverted when persistence overcomes him.

"Tris."

"Look!"

I snap the words a lot more fierce than intended. But even though, I chose not to soften up or to even take them back. There's no point in doing so anyways.

It's the only way to get people listening. I would know.

I grit my teeth in order to maintain control. "You're not going to get extra credit just for talking to me."

I wasn't done yet, but he unexpectedly snaps back. His response was fast.

"This isn't about extra credit."

 _Too_ fast for my liking actually. He sighs heavily before going on to say, "The tutoring sessions aren't about extra credit either. I am doing this on my own free will."

Even if the the firm tone had been absent, there wouldn't be a doubt in my mind about it; about him doing this on his own free will. I mean honestly, would you expect anything less from a guy like him?

The only person who I could think of, that would _voluntarily_ aid others with _no_ personal gain in return, is the person who's built a reputation of perfection for himself.

It's common sense, really.

But it's also annoying in _every_ way possible that he could... _be_ like that.

But then again, that's probably because kindness isn't an attribute I can, or ever will, attain.

I hum a little as I swiftly zone back.

"Eaton."

As a brief moment of silence is dropped, the name almost echoes throughout the corridors. And then I continue, the tension starting to rise between us momentarily ignored.

"If you wish," I begin slowly, "to live long enough to see 80, then I suggest you use that _free will_ you love so much and remove yourself away from my locker."

Only slightly, does he stiffen at the threat and then surprisingly, he remains standing there, his stance now confident. Our eyes lock onto each other and the tension just expands, the heat increasing. Though I don't know how that's possible; I'm staring straight into deep pools of water.

Searching through his eyes, a spark of determination fleets by before it disappears. My curiosity is instantly piqued at this.

The stare down probably would've lasted longer, if Uriah hadn't swooped in to the rescue. He tightly clasps onto Four's arm, automatically averting his gaze away from me. But I don't stop staring.

And I won't.

Not until his presence is completely erased of.

It's a basic survival guideline. Everyone should know this. At least, I hope they do.

"Uh... Four" Uriah then says. I immediately tune into their conversation. "Coach... needs to talk to you."

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that that's bullshit.

First of all, he took _way_ too long trying to come up with an excuse. And it's a pretty weak one, if you ask me. Second, he _just_ walked into the building a minute ago. And even if their coach _had_ met him outside before he walked in, the matter wouldn't be as urgent as he's trying to make it out to be, because he _literally_ stopped right in the middle of the corridors, just to flirt with a bunch of high-pitched cheerleaders. Final reason, he stuttered. Classic giveaway.

Mirth slightly overcomes me though. With this kind of improv, Uriah would _not_ last on the streets. But as an afterthought, for some unknown reason, I couldn't help but feel... _relieved_ that he isn't.

As the time passes by slowly, I realise that they are _still_ whispering amongst each other. Soon this begins to irritate me, especially since I could hear _everything_ that they were saying: from Uriah's splutter of excuses to Four's pretentious clueless replies.

Uriah must've sensed my growing annoyance because his agitation swiftly becomes thicker and his grasp on Four's arm, tightens.

Finally getting the gist, Four forcibly gives in to Uriah's persuasion techniques before turning to me and sighing.

"I have to go. I guess, I'll see you around" he says and I could only scoff silently.

He says that as if I care.

I don't.

Following the sight of their backs as they turn to leave, I wait for a few seconds, just to make sure that I don't feel their lingering presence, before opening my locker. Four's last words repeats in my mind.

 _I'll see you around._

I snort once more.

I hope not.

It's a stupid wish.

-XX-

FOUR:

A puzzle with a million pieces would be easier to solve than Tris Prior. Her stoic behaviour is beyond frustrating and her lack of emotion makes me question humanity.

What was her problem, anyways? Would it hurt for her to uphold a _normal_ conversation, like a _normal_ person? She's always so... _defensive_.

Was that normal?

Before my thoughts could be explored, Uriah speaks up from beside me.

"Dude, stop brooding." I immediately glare at him.

"I'm not brooding" I deny but he only chuckles in disbelief. Soon, his laughter slowly dies down.

"Do you have a death wish or something?"

The query was unexpected. I turn to look at him in reply, my brow arched.

"Talking to Tris Prior is a death wish?" I inquiry.

" _Defying_ her is a death wish" he speedily corrects. I slightly shake my head at this.

"You act as if she's some dangerous force not to be reckoned with."

The minute the words left my mouth, he froze, his mouth agape. I stop beside him. "What?" I ask him, still clueless.

Before he could answer though, Lauren the Head cheerleader pounces on me.

"Hey Four" she purrs, diverting my attention. I only nod in response. "How's your morning so far?"

"Fine."

Uriah scoffs at my response.

"Fine?" he mutters quietly. "You almost got killed but sure, whatever." I roll my eyes at his dramatic behaviour. Fortunately, Lauren didn't hear a single word he said.

"So what are you doing after school?" she asks. "You should _totally_ come with me to the mall."

I force a grin on my face.

"I'd _love_ to but I have tutoring sessions today." She instantly pouts at the denial.

"Oh c'mon Four!" she pleads. "Won't you ditch for _me_?"

She then begins to blink rapidly as a persuasion tactic. But it doesn't work. In fact, I had to stop myself from jerking back at the odd sight. Before I could reply, my best friend Zeke beats me to it. He swings an arm around her shoulders and a charming smirk appears on his face.

"Four, ditching? It's unheard of." Lauren rolls her eyes at him. "Besides, he's busy. But _I'm_ not." In response, she shifts her shoulder so that his arm falls slack.

"Thanks but no thanks" she rejects, her face scrunched up into a disgusted look. Zeke, however doesn't care. He just shrugs it off and then she continues to turn to me with puppy dog eyes. "Please, Four?" she begs.

"I'm sorry Lauren, I told you already. I can't. Besides, I'm sure Tris will have my head if I leave her hanging."

I'm not actually quite sure about this, but she seems like the type who'd hate to be stood up, even if she doesn't care about the tutoring session.

"Wait." I raise an eyebrow at the cheerleader. "Tris? As in Tris Prior?" I nod. "Four! That's all the more reason to ditch the sessions! The girl's a bitch" she exclaims. I open my mouth to respond when an unknown voice cuts me off.

"Do it."

The voice came from behind me. And for some reason, I could feel it getting closer with every bypassing second. My head snaps up at the familiarity of the atmosphere and my gaze took no effort to find her over my shoulder.

I kept my eyes on her as she passes by us.

Everyone was quiet now. Lauren was nervous, the Pedrad brothers had stern expressions and I could only narrow my eyes at her.

"Do it" she repeats while sauntering passed. "You'd be doing me a favour." Her voice steadily drowns out as she becomes distant.

For some reason, this causes me to grimace to the point where my hands balled up into tight fists.

And then I spoke.

"That's _exactly_ why I wouldn't go" I blurt out.

My reply was the start of many reactions.

All students froze, whether they were close by or not. The corridors fell silent the moment the last word was said. Jaws dropped and eyes darted back and forth. Gazes widened and no one dared to move, let alone breathe.

Painfully slow, Tris Prior glances at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were blazing fierce. Clearly, she didn't like the challenge in my voice.

Her stare froze time and then she turned, her entire body facing me.

She takes a single step forward and everyone flinches. She takes another step. The atmosphere tightens.

And then her speed picks up as she aims to approach me.

All that's left is a few more steps until she's reached me.

I mentally prepare myself for her arrival when a body suddenly flies in between. Their back is to me. The unexpected interference causes Tris to falter in her steps.

Her aloofness is momentarily dropped as surprise hits her. But it fades as quickly as it had come and her anger returns.

She walks up to him, her fists ready.

"Move."

Though her voice had been quiet, the instruction was loud and clear. So much hate-filled passion bounced off of the word. From the corner of my eye, I could see Zeke slightly shiver at her tone.

That tone... it's been perfected over years of practice.

I could tell.

While everyone seems affected by the sound of her voice, Edward remained firm in stance.

"Drop it, Tris." This demand was a lot softer but she refused to listen.

"Do _not_ make me say it again."

Another round of visceral reactions occur.

"Tris" he says, still relatively calm.

"I said-"

" **Beatr-!** " Everyone jumps back when she abruptly grabs Edward by the collar. Her rage, we could feel, had been intensified by an unfinished word.

In this moment, I knew I was no longer the target of her fury. Edward had directed her resentment towards him instead. Before I could even think of fixing things, his hand captures my attention. Though he was focused on the girl in front of him, he was waving his hand behind his back.

Puzzlement overwhelms me at the action. That was until, Uriah grabbed my arm.

"Let go" he whispers.

"What?" I ask him, incredulously. "We _can't_."

"Four!" he says, his voice harsh and alert. "He's _telling_ us to leave."

It's only when he says this that I turn back to the pair. And in that instance, I couldn't help but realise that this was an _entirely_ different matter now. It was a matter between them _personally_. My defiance was long forgotten.

By now, _everyone_ was already fleeing. Obviously, the realisation had hit them earlier than it had, me.

A tug on my arm is felt and I unconsciously began to move as I followed Uriah. We were the last ones in the corridors besides Tris and Edward. But before we were completely out of range, I had to spare one more glance at the pair.

The last thing I saw before I was absolutely out of sight, was Edward gripping the arm in which Tris holds a fistful of his shirt.

-XX-

The entire day, all that was ever talked about was the interaction that had happened between Tris and I and between Tris and Edward. Rumours started to fly, especially when Tris's presence became absent. Only Edward was seen around school. That especially caused a whole new wave of gossip and murmurings. Everyone was curious as to what had happened to the blonde.

As I walked through the passages of the school, I suddenly spotted Edward. I hesitated a little when seeing him but forced myself to approach him.

"Edward!" I call out to him.

He turns around and waits for me, hands in his pockets.

"What do you want, Eaton?"

"Uh..." _What do I want?_ "...thanks."

"I didn't do it for you" he swiftly answers.

"I know" I tell him. He studies me for a while, his eyes assessing, before he shakes his head vigorously.

"What's with you anyways, huh? _Everyone_ in this school knows to avoid her, _especially_ if she's mad. But _you_! You don't seem to have any _thought_ or any _love_ for your life, do you?" he scolds. Instantly, my fists clench.

"Why does everyone say that?" I ask through seething teeth. He seems surprised by my question. But I continued nonetheless. "Why does everyone make her out to be so... _dangerous_?"

"Because she's a _fucking_ gang member, Eaton!" he explodes. My fury breaks at this piece of information. Upon seeing the slight change, he softens up a little. "How could you _not_ have known? _Everyone_ talks about it."

"I always thought it was a rumour" I say.

"Well it _isn't_. Maybe now you'll be more cautious." He goes to walk away when I abruptly stop him.

"Edward." He pauses and I take this as a sign to go on. "Can I ask you a favour?" I wait a moment until he nods. "I'm... her tutor, as you probably already know, and I was wondering if you'd give me a few pointers, seeing that you know her the most."

"Pointers?" he asks. I don't think he's ever been asked such a question. I hastily nod.

"I... feel like I'd fail as a tutor if I don't know about her or her kind of learning style or even the type of learning environment she prefers."

Immediately, he scoffs humourlessly.

"Ha! The last thing on Tris's mind is learning."

There's some kind of hidden message behind his words.

"You can't ask me for pointers on a person, Eaton. You've gotta figure that out yourself." My head lowers at his answer until I hear him let out a heavy breath. A flicker of hope arises when he says, " _But..._ for Tris personally, you need to earn her trust or at least gain an acknowledgement from her."

 _An acknowledgement?_

Before I could thank him, he was already gone and I was left to stand alone in the corridors.

-XX-

She didn't show up to the tutoring session. In fact, she didn't show up to any of her classes. I should've known.

-XX-

Everyday when I'm driving home, I pass by an entire row of houses sitting opposite an ancient cemetery. Old tales are associated with this very cemetery. Apparently, all the houses opposite it are where the _'ghosts'_ hang out when everyone is asleep. Most people won't believe such a story but everyone in Chicago does. Why? Because not a single person has lived in those houses for over 10 years and this somehow links back to the tale.

So like every other day, I drive passed the cemetery with the fable in mind. The sun was beginning to set and the skies have already darkened. Not a single person was in sight.

Except for one.

I would've ignored their presence as usual, if it weren't for two reasons.

One, they were entering the cemetery despite the darkness and two, that blonde hair was all too familiar. I slammed down on the brakes when the realisation dawns on me, before parking. Hopping out of the car quickly, I called out to her.

"Tris."

She froze at the sound of her name before looking back to me, her eyes squinted. When she notices that it's me, her jaw clenches before she walks away in ignorance. "Wait, Tris!" I shout out. Closing my door hurriedly, I ran after her. "Tris."

"Leave me alone, Eaton" she instructs while still walking away.

"Tris, just wait" I say, following closely behind her. And then I stop when she suddenly turns, her face just inches away from mine.

"What the fuck do you want, huh?" she hisses, her voice venomous.

"You didn't show up to tutoring so I wanted to know if you were alright." My response made her scoff in disbelief.

"Does the fact that I'm a _gang member_ not faze you _at all_?"

I think about it for a moment before shaking my head.

"You were Tris Prior first." Her face remains indifferent at the statement but her eyes were a different story. The only similarity between the two, is that I couldn't read either one and this just stirs my frustration.

And then she replies."Whatever. Just leave me the fuck alone." She's about to walk off when I stop her once more.

"Let me take you home, then" I offer. But she instantly snorts.

"Go home, Eaton." Unfortunately, she's not the only stubborn person here because when she starts walking, I start following. This just seems to piss her off even further.

"I'm not letting you walk home alone Tris, let alone through a cemetery." _That's plain creepy. And my parents taught me better._

"I don't need you here. Go. Away." After a minute or two, she sees that her attempts are failing and then spins around again. Before I could react, something solid is pressed against my stomach, over my shirt. I could feel it's cold metal and it causes me to shiver.

Glancing down, my eyes slightly widen.

I'm not sure on how I'm supposed to react to a gun digging into my skin.

The only thing I managed to say was, "Seriously, Tris?"

She raises a brow before nudging me with the weapon.

"Go on. Back to the car you go." I scoff at the sudden turn of events before finally obeying her demands. With the threat still in place, she escorts me all the way back to my vehicle. Even as I hop in and wind down the windows, she still points the gun at me. "Go home, Eaton. I swear if you follow me, you're a dead man. I hope I'm making myself clear." I open my mouth to respond but she just taps the car door with her gun. "Drive" she instructs.

Sighing in disbelief, I start up the car before driving off. From the rear view mirror, I watch as she just stands there, watching me leave. Instead of going home like she had said, I drove around the block before returning to the cemetery. By the time I got back, she was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, she actually turned up to the tutoring session, which was surprising to say the least. Her chair was pulled back as she sat down and a heated glare was directed towards me. Her arms were folded which gave her that same intimidating look but by now, I was gradually getting used to it.

Shockingly, this time _she_ initiated the conversation.

"I don't know _why_ you would go back to the cemetery after I made it clear that you go _straight_ home."

She wasn't the slightest bit curious. More so, pissed at my lack of obedience. Her tone said it all.

 _But wait._ _She 'saw' me return?_

 _How? She was gone by the time I got back._

 _Unless..._

 _Does that mean...?_

"You were watching me."

It was an accusation more than it was a question and judging by her neutral expression, I assumed I was correct.

 _But from where though?_

The question repeated itself in my head, over and over again and soon it felt like it was pounding my head in. The minute it became an unbearable nuisance, I knew I had to ask.

She snorted humourlessly when I did.

"What kind of person would give up their location?" she asked, her eyes narrowed to slits.

Instead of replying instantly, I openly stared at her for a moment with curiosity.

It was then that I realised that _that_ was exactly _why_ she intrigued me; why she _interested_ me.

It was that _mindset_ of hers.

Lately, whenever I'd zone out, I'd find myself analysing her; her words, her actions, her behaviour. And so far, they all point to _one_ specific heading.

Her mindset was purely based on... _survival_ ; whether she was being defensive or attacking; whether she was in school or elsewhere.

Now these, I understand were all just theories, gathered from a few days of observation. But I couldn't help but feel as if I was on the right track, somehow.

Slowly, I opened my mouth to respond to her unanswered query.

"Gang member."

"What?" she fiercely snapped back.

"Don't you mean, what kind of _gang member_ would give up their location?" She raised a brow, which I took as a sign to continue. "Because trust me Tris, _no one_ in this school would resort to that kind of reply when asked a question like that." An unnerving silence dug it's way between us as she came to a realisation. It was slightly showing; her personality, her way of thinking, her way of _living_.

But unlike in the past, I was determined to keep the conversation going. "Must've taken a while to gain that kind of mindset, huh?"

Her jaw noticeably clenched before she leaned in.

"Is this some sort of game to you?" she spat, the inquiry laced with venom. I reciprocated the previous action and leaned in as well, our faces just inches apart now.

"Am I _winning_?"

"Trust me" she answered. "You don't _want_ to" she said, her voice dangerously quiet. "You're better off losing."

I smirked in defiance.

"I've never heard of the word."

For a moment, a flicker of admiration fleeted amidst her eyes but it vanished all too soon as she leaned back into her chair.

"You've still yet to do your job as a tutor, Eaton." She avoided my gaze as she said that. Clearly she was annoyed and I couldn't help but find satisfaction from her irritation. A small grin formed on my face.

"Right. Let's get to it then."

She immediately glared when hearing the hint of victory in my tone.

-XX-

After a while of teaching her the structure of a text response, her usual replies being spoken through her gaze, I decided to actually give her an essay question in order to obtain an insight on where her understanding stood. But before that...

"You need to choose a book." She shot me a questioning look. "This year in English, we've been studying two ancient plays: ' _Romeo and Juliet_ ' by William Shakespeare," she rolled her eyes at this, "and ' _Medea_ ' by Euripides. All you have to do is choose-"

"Medea." Arching a brow at her, she responded before I could a get a word in. "Stop with the whole stereotyping shit."

I grinned in mirth.

"Look at it as a survival tactic."

"Meaning?" she asked daringly.

"Think about it: you see a big buff dude with a beard, dark shades, tattoos and piercings, dressed entirely in leather, and you automatically think ' _biker_ '. Therefore, your first instinct is to stay away and avoid him as much as possible."

"And that's _exactly_ why stereotypes are stupid" she fought. "Because a _dude_ like that could be the softest person alive and your judgement has overclouded reality. Secondly, if stereotypes work so much as a ' _survival tactic_ ', why is that you didn't notice that I was a gang member? Even _now_ that you know, you seem to _enjoy_ treading on _thin_ ice, don't you?" Fury began to leak out of her as she spoke. " _You_ of all people Eaton, don't get to talk to _me_ about _survival tactics_. You don't even _need_ them."

Hearing her speak just then was a little surprising. Because underlying _all_ that anger was a... _passion_ of some sort. Although it was small, there was no erasing the fact that it was _there_.

I didn't have anything coherent to reply with, so I simply settled with moving on by assigning her a topic question. Thankfully, she embraced the sudden change in subject.

Silence hovered over us as she attempted to write a text response. And while she did, I watched her intently. I watched as she furrowed her eyebrows when frustrated or how her mouth would form a flat line when concentrating.

And more than often, I'd focus my stare every time she'd bite down on her plump bottom lip.

But I abruptly paused my... _studies_ when she leaned back into her chair, slightly throwing her pen onto the table.

"You finished?" I asked.

She scoffed incredulously. "As if. I give up."

"You don't look like the type of person who'd give up so easily" I told her. Her stormy eyes blazed fiercely.

"You don't know me _at all_."

 _Trust her to backfire my attempt at an encouragement_ , I inwardly thought.

"You're right. And I don't _need_ to know." _Although I want to_. "But what I _do_ need, is to know _why_ you've given up so soon."

She quietly sighed.

"I don't understand the question."

"Have you perhaps read the play?" I asked.

"No."

"Geez, I wonder why you don't understand the question" I commented sarcastically. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, could you _at least_ give me a brief rundown on what the fuck happens in the play?" she asked in annoyance.

"Fine" I conceded tiredly. "Basically, it's about a woman named Medea, whose husband ditched her and as revenge she murders her children." I expected her to go on a rant about how stupid the protagonist was but she didn't. Unlike all of our other female classmates, she remained indifferent.

"You don't look so surprised" I told her. She merely shrugged.

"I admit, that's fucked up on so many levels but she's every girl's inner bitch. I mean, name one female who wouldn't go all insane when finding out their partner cheated on them or left them for another chick."

I'm about to agree when one name popped up into my head. A small smirk appeared on my face.

"You."

She obviously didn't expect that but quietly and quickly, she scoffed in amusement.

"That's only because such feelings are dead inside of me." Shockingly, I shook my head at the statement.

"Not dead. Just... buried. Very deeply." Her gaze shifted so that it met mine and it's only then that I realised her eyes weren't as... _defensive_ as they usually were. However, the walls and barriers were still there. Nothing new about that.

As I cleared my throat, the stare down comes to an end.

"So uh... about the question," she snapped out of her daze and refocused, "let's start with whether you agree with the statement being made or not."

"Um... yeah, I do." As she said that, she bit down on her bottom lip. And I, for the life of me, couldn't understand why I was so drawn to the action, even to the extent where I completely blanked out. Her response was entirely ignored.

"Was that the wrong answer?" she then asked, breaking me out of my stupor.

I had to blink repeatedly in order to zone back. In fact, I was grateful for the distraction after I realised I've made my return. I don't think I would have stopped gazing at her and I _especially_ don't think she would have appreciated me staring at her.

Shaking my head as a means to clear my mind, I found her eyes.

I don't think that made it any better, though.

"Uh..."

 _What were we talking about again?_

...

 _Oh that's right._

"Uh, no" I answered swiftly as a cover up. "And... that's the beauty of English, I guess." She raised a distrustful brow.

"I didn't think I'd _ever_ see the day where someone would actually use the words ' _English_ ' and ' _beauty_ ' in the same sentence." I lightly chuckled at this.

"Yeah, but... it's true. It's unlike every other subject." She glanced at me with mild interest. "Take Maths for example; 1 + 1 _has_ to equal 2. It's... the set answer. It can't be anything else. However in English, 1 + 1 could equal 500. All _you_ have to do is explain why and how that's possible." Her gaze narrowed before she nodded in understanding.

Hastily checking the time, I sighed upon seeing the time.

"And that's all we have for today." Nodding once more, she started to pack away her stuff. As she did, I decided to make small talk.

"Hey."

"What?" was her nonchalant reply.

"I think that's the most I've heard you talk. We're getting somewhere." She snorted as she glanced up to look at me.

"Yeah, no" she deadpanned. "Don't get your hopes up, ***** Mr. P. I just figured you'd be _less_ irritating if I'd actually _try_ to get involved with these tutoring sessions. You know? _'Survival tactics'_ "

"And how'd that work out for you?" I inquired with a smirk. I was amused by the slight teasing tone.

"Worse than usual."

I couldn't help but let out a chuckle as she said that and then she walked away without a proper goodbye. She didn't even look back once.

It was only when she was completely out of sight, that I started to move.

The grin on my face was still present even when I reached home.

Today, I decided, had been a good day. Who knew tutoring sessions could do such a thing?

* * *

 **A/N: Just in case, some of you were wondering:**

 ***Mr. P = Mr. Perfect**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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